Song Remains the Same
by HellRaiserAlchemist
Summary: [GenFic] Spin-off of the episode. Michael confronts Castiel in the past after returning the Winchesters to their own time. [Rating for implied violence and mentions of Hell? It's pretty tame, actually.]


I actually lost track of what I was doing with this.

I just wanted fluffy bonding and Michael helping Cas recover enough Grace to get him back to his time. And then my brain ran off because I got to go home and the plot bunny went 'ABORT MISSION'.

No real plot, lots of babbling, lots of headcanon.

[Also on my tumblr]

* * *

Michael isn't sure how to feel now. He knows what Anael's fallen vessel will look like. He could find her. Put the poor woman out of her misery—save her from the mental hospitals, from the demons finding her during the uprising—but, that's not part of the script. No matter how badly he wants to and no matter how much doubt he's going to have in Anael when he returns to Heaven… Anna Milton's death is set. Anael will fall, Anna will be born. The demons will hunt her, Dean and Sam Winchester will save her from Castiel and Uriel and… and Michael will be the one that follows through.

Just like he always has; just like he did when Father cast Lucifer out.

Though… when he carefully deposits Mary on her bed, when he looks around her house in a curious manner, an oddity occurs to him.

Anael didn't bring the Winchesters… she went to Uriel, first and foremost. Of all people, Uriel would be more likely to turn her in than to help her… she should have gone to—

After a few moments longer, he feels it. The out of place presence and when he zeroes in on it, the scenery changes from pleasant family house to a relatively decent motel… and, he wonders if he should be pleased or relieved to see Castiel's finally been given a vessel. Michael tilts his head, just to observe the battered condition the vessel is in, and shakes his head before he reaches down and gently taps against the man's forehead. He might be amused when his brother jerks away from him the second he wakes up; but, he doesn't let it show. He just gives Castiel a very patient look and shakes his head a little, "I fear to ask what the future holds… that would make you turn against and hunt Anael."

"You know the answer to that." Castiel's response is tight, like he's still trying to regain a sense of balance in his vessel. Michael just gives him a pointed look until his brother finally looks down and mumbles an additional, "Sir." (At the very least, he's pleased that Castiel still remembers his manners.)

When Castiel looks back up, Michael takes a moment to admire the extra shine that his Grace gives his vessel's eyes. Blue as a clear sky; the same bright, reassuring light that had been in Gabriel's. But, there's something else. Something fierce. Something that screams molding from Michael and… and, if he looks hard enough, he can see pride—he can see a younger Lucifer.

"Perhaps I do, Castiel. But, you know it was not your place to bring the children here. My sword—and Lucifer's especially—is not something you throw into the time stream, Castiel. You know that and I _know_ you know _better_." He wonders if he should feel pride or shame when he takes a step towards his brother and he flinches away. He wants to attribute it to his command of the garrison. But, somewhere inside, he knows. He knows this isn't respect that makes his brother back down; it's fear. Fear that should only be felt in Lucifer's presence, or even Raphael's.

Michael frowns as he catches the memory, "Castiel, you—_what_ were you thinking?"

"…Sir?"

"You _trapped_ Raphael? Have you lost your mind? Have you gotten so close to the Winchesters—?"

"No, sir." Castiel stands a little bit straighter (Michael tries to ignore the spark of pride he feels in his younger brother), "I—perhaps I have. But not for—Anna was _wrong_. Raphael is _wrong_. And… Zachariah and Uriel, as well. They're all wrong. And," he hesitates, just for a moment; but, when he finds his voice, his conviction is just as strong, "_you_ are wrong, Michael. I will make no apologies. You're all _wrong_. This war _doesn't_ have to play out as Father said it would."

Michael can feel his Grace burning inside of John Winchester's body; can feel the internal organs and muscles scream in protest and he forces himself to calm back down. (He tells himself it's for the sake of his vessel; a small, traitorous part of him argues that he doesn't approve of the way that Castiel takes another step away.)

"Castiel… you've known just as long as I have. Just as long as we all have. You have been loyal. You were given the chance to have a vessel because we thought it would benefit you." Michael frowns, tilts his head again.

"Michael… you may have lead us into Hell—you may have lead us in the raid to save Dean from Hell, but _I _was the one that raised him. I was the one that dragged him away from that rack and secured his safety on Earth." Castiel bows his head; Michael can't tell if it's a show of submission or an attempt at respect, "I understand why, now. When we first raided Hell, I could not… did not understand why you refused to raise Dean. You—"

He hesitates and Michael gives him a condescending nod

"This is part of the script, Castiel. Raphael and I were to guard the gate to Hell. To keep the bulk of Hell from escaping in our raid. You knew that going in."

"But I did not understand _why_. Dean is _your vessel_, Michael. _Your_ weapon. He—none of us should have been allowed to raise him. It _should_ have been you. And you knew it, too. When I think back on the raid, I do not think of raising Dean. I think of how terrifying _you_ were. As though you were afraid that the Cage would break with us raiding Hell. That the script would fall apart. That _you_ would be the one that broke the script."

Michael frowns, tries to ignore the way his Grace burns stronger once more, "Castiel. I suggest you curb your tone."

"You know, don't you?" His brother almost sounds hysteric. At least, by their standards, "The Winchesters are all _cursed_. The slightest interaction—why, Michael? I shouldn't have even been on that raid, I was never part of the script. Uriel and Anael were supposed to lead the raid, while you and Raphael stood guard. _Why_?"

So he does react. He muses on how he will react to ignore the unspoken, hysterical claim in the air.

_You damned me by letting me raise Dean Winchester. _

Michael looks away and nods slowly, "Anael's betrayal… certainly upsets the balance of things, doesn't it?"

"But you _knew_ it would happen. Some of our brothers and sisters say that you knew when Lucifer fell that Anael would follow. _How_?"

"Because Anael was modeled after us." Michael gives him a level look, does his best to remain neutral and not raise his voice, "Anael was meant to be modeled after Lucifer and I—to take the qualities we best embody and be the perfect soldier. The next Archangel to replace Lucifer or perhaps Gabriel. And it was a failed model. … Something I wish Father would realize and stop attempting."

He tilts his head; Castiel looks suspicious, again, and he sighs, "It's time for you to return to your own time, Castiel. Things will make sense eventually. " He gives a vague smile when he presses two fingers to his brother's forehead, when he shares just enough Grace to let his brother get home, "Give my regards to Gabriel, won't you?"

He leaves before his brother can question him.

* * *

Might eventually do more Michael & Cas brother bonding. Maybe. Or just all around angel bonding, because Michael and Gabriel bonding and Gabriel and Cas and yeah.

Maybe.

Eventually.


End file.
